Always
by brickbatz
Summary: FLACK/DANNY - Summary: After a long, hard day Danny just wants to go to bed. That is, until he receives a very unexpected call. Slash fic, part of a series of one shots. Not for young readers, very suggestive themes!


Title: Always  
>Author: brickbatz<br>Prompt: 001/100 Beginnings  
>Summary: Danny receives a very unexpected phone call.<p>

Rating: R – very suggestive themes, Slash, pwp

Messer's just reached his apartment door. The shift has been hard, and the last 11 hours in the lab have been long. He's hungry. He's tired. He's filthy. Nothing in the world right now sounds better than a shower… followed close second by a long sleep.

Key in the lock, he steps inside as fast as he can, in case a neighbour catches him and tries to strike up conversation. It's too late in the day.

He shuts the door and kicks off his shoes, too tired to pair them by the doormat. A trail of belongings follows as Danny leaves his keys and wallet on the side and his suit jacket on the kitchen table. He's just starting to unbutton his shirt when the phone rings.

It better not be a dispatch. Danny swears audibly, thinking that the person on the other end of that line better be praying they're not calling about work. He backtracks to his jacket, retrieving the ringing, vibrating monster.

Caller ID reads Flack, Jr. Danny fears the worst. Grinding his teeth, he takes a breath and answers. "Yeah, Messer. What's happenin'?"

His hand is on his hip, visibly frustrated. At first, he hears nothing but breathing at the other end of the line, and for a split second wonders if Don's called him from his pocket, or if he's in trouble. "'Ello? Flack? You okay buddy?"

He's about to hang up, teeth grinding again, when the caller speaks.

"…What're you wearin'?" The thick accent is familiar.

"Don? What the hell you on about?"

Another pause. "What're you wearin'?" He repeats, slower this time. Danny glances down at the phone in his hand, screwing his face up a little in confusion.

"Same thing I had on at work, Flack. Beige pants, white shirt… What's this about? You okay?" More heavy breathing and Flack makes a sound Danny can identify as reassurance. "Flack, if yer okay and ya don't mind, I'd like to hang up now, you know, grab a bite to eat…"

"Shh…" The sound is low and drawn out, and Danny hushes. He frowns slightly.

"Don…"

"Describe it." Danny's frown deepens, but he obeys.

"Okay… well, you saw it. Took the jacket off… top couple of buttons are open because I was about to take a shower…"

"Yeah?" The detective's voice is heavier now, and Danny swallows hard. He hears a groan. He tells himself he didn't.

"Yeah…"

"How many?"

"Three."

Danny drops the sharpness of his voice, curious as to where Flack's taking this. He leans back against his kitchen counter.

"Keep going." Flack asks – orders, Danny thinks – and he hesitates. His head says this is silly, and to hang up on his friend and pretend nothing happened. His hand is already sliding up his shirt to release the next button on his shirt.

"Okay," He says quietly, popping each button slowly. "And then?"

Flack groans again, and this time it's unmistakeable.

"I know what yer doing," Danny accuses, when he get's no answer.

"You like it."

"Says who?"

"You haven't hung up yet." The last two words come as a shudder, Flack's accent sending sparks down Danny's stomach to his groin. He can't deny that. He could hang up any time. He pop's the last button.

"The shirt's open." He says nervously.

There's a pause. Messer open's his mouth, not sure what to say. He's trying to find words to keep this from ending.

"Is it untucked?" Flack breathes down the phone and Danny swears he can almost feel it on his neck. "I hope you're comfortable."

Danny's breathing quickens as he realizes he can't hang up any more. He crosses the room, lies down on the couch. He untuck's his shirt. "Yes. And yes, very."

"I'm thinking about your chest. I've seen it, in the locker room."

Danny gulps again. "Yeah?"

"I want to touch it." The voice at the other end purrs, and Danny bites his lip, letting his own fingers wander across his skin.

"Then touch it," he teases, rubbing circles onto his own skin.

"I'd like that."

Danny glances nervously around the room, as if someone might catch him. Flack's breath sounds in his ear, a quick gasp and groan spilling from his lips.

"Where are you?" Danny murmurs, scraping his lower lip slightly with his teeth as his hand creeps further down to his belt buckle. He doesn't think about the fact he's keeping it going.

"On my back," Don replies very slowly, and there's a smirk in his heavy New York accent. "On my bed. The lights are off, but I've still got my pants on…"

Danny's eyes widen slightly at the thought. His cock jumps at the image of Don rubbing himself through his pants. "I'm undoing mine," Danny groans slightly, unbuckling his belt and sliding down his zipper. His cock pushes against the cotton prison underneath.

"I wanna taste your neck.." Danny closes his eyes. He can almost see Don licking his lips, like a predator. His groin aches slightly at the thought of being wanted by another man. He's never thought about it before.

"Yeah?"

"Touch your chest for me. Are your nipples hard?"

Danny gulps again and groans, following the command. "Yeah…" He replies, circling one with the tip of his finger.

"I'd love to feel them. Pinch them."

"Mmm," Danny hums, copying the words.

"Does that feel good?" Don asks, and his voice is intense.

"Yeah…"

"I'd love to lick them. I'd lick them slowly, worship each one. And then I'd lick down your chest, around your naval. Would you like that, Danny?"

It's the first time he's used his name, and the word drips off Don's tongue. Danny shivers in anticipation as his fingers follow the trail Don's describing. He can hear the mattress creaking, and a slight groan, as Don get's comfortable. He sighs in response.

"I wanna grind against you…" The word grind is drawn out so slowly Messer can almost feel the motion, his hand dusting across his boxers. "I wanna feel you squirm underneath me. Do you know that, Danny?"

Danny's breathing heavily now. He allows himself one quick rub of his hand across his painful bulge. "No… tell me…" He rasps.

"You're a mess. Your hairs sticking up and your glasses are off," Don starts. "You're moaning for me. I think about the sound all the time."

Messer's hips buck against his hand involuntarily.

"Get's me hard, Danny. I can't help it, when I think about you… I have to touch myself."

"Are you... touching yourself?" Danny gasps, conjuring up images of the other man in his mind, almost real enough to touch.

"Oh yeah… I'm sliding my hand into my pants now… no boxers. I never wear 'em. I …wanna stroke."

Danny rubs his palm slowly back and forth across his underwear, teasing the bulge beneath it. Fuck, he thinks, hearing the tiny noises Don is elicting from himself.

"Do you mind, Danny? I wanna jerk my cock for you. Would you like that…"

"Oh yeah, I'd like that… uhh…" Danny peels back his boxers, grasping his own cock. He bites his lip, running his hand slowly up his shaft. "Tell me what yer gonna do to me…"

"Taste you… I wanna run my tongue over your sex. Wanna feel you in my throat."

Between his words are little gasps. Danny lets out a quiet moan, feeling himself slowly. "Wanna feel your mouth…" He admits.

"Only if you moan for me, baby…"

Danny leans deeper in the cushions of the couch, wishing he'd drawn the curtains. He's not getting up to do it. He rests the phone between his ear and his shoulder, running his free hand over his hips. Jerking himself roughly, he moans deeply into the phone. He likes Don calling him baby, he decides.

"Yeah, like that… you moan like that, Messer, and I'll let you fuck my dirty little mouth."

Fuck, Messer thinks, where did Flack learn to talk like that? But there's no time to think about it, because the heat is pooling up in his groin. He moans again. "Close.." He murmurs.

"Show me Messer, let me hear how close you are…"

"Please," Danny pleads, not sure what he's asking for. He wishes he could feel Flack's large, rough hands in place of his own.

"I wanna feel your hand on the back of my head, Messer. Wanna swallow you down… hear my name on your… your lips," Flack growls, his breath rasping between his words.

Danny can hear the need in Flack's voice, knows the words are uncontrolled. His imagination takes hold, filling his head with the image of Don between his legs, on his knees. "Donnie…" He purrs, ramming into Flack's pink mouth in his mind as he jerks himself closer to the edge.

Flack's getting close, his words deteriorating into sounds.

"Again… mmm, Messer…" He groans, his voice guttural. Danny's breath hitches.

"Come on Danny," Flack growls again, "Wanna hear you come for me…"

"Uhh…" Danny gasps, hips bouncing up as his sex burns in his hand. "God, yes…"

"Come for me Dann-o, need to hear you…"

Danny writhes, desperate for more friction. He pictures Flack on his knees, head down against the mattress as he jerks and pumps desperately into his hand.

"You gonna come…?" Flack purrs deeply.

"Yeah…"

"Come for me, baby…"

"Yeah, uhh…"

"Mmm, Danny,"

"Don!"

Danny's head falls back again the arm of the couch, mouth open in a silent cry as he reaches the edge, spasms of pleasure ripping through him. He shudders, curses and arches his back, moaning deeply as he comes over his hand and stomach. He can hear Flack cry out, grunting with his own climax, and for a second he can see him in his mind, face buried in the sheets, teeth clenched as he spurts out over his fingers, helpless to the feeling. A wave of pleasure ripples over him as he spirals down from his climax, gasping and writhing in a desperate attempt to prolong the feeling.

"Guh…" He hears from the other end of the phone. Messer breathes heavily, unsure of what to say. He stares up at the apartment ceiling, speechless.

He's never thought about a man like that before. He's definitely never thought about Flack like that. He bites his lip, slowly jerking his sensitive cock until it's too much. He tucks himself away, and takes hold of the phone again.

"Don?" His voice is quiet, and unsure. Flack's still breathing heavily.

"Yeah?" Don sighs.

"…I dunno."

"…Me neither," Don answers after a few quiet moments.

"Think I need that shower now," Danny laughs lightly, trying to break the tense atmosphere.

"Mmm, me too." Don sounds like Don again, Danny thinks, but his voice is suggestive. Danny chuckles quietly.

"That was…" He starts to say, but trails off. What was it?

"I know." Flack finishes for him.

Danny stares towards the window for what seems like hours. He swallows dryly and frowns to himself. "Do we talk about this, Flack?"

"…Your call, Dann-o," The detective replies honestly. "Don't decide now."

"…Okay."

Silence falls over them again, not awkward but not easy. Don breaks it. "Messer, I gotta go… clean up. I'm on call."

Danny swallows again. Fuck. But it's like Flack to take risks. He nods, then murmurs his understanding. "I think ya wore me out…" He admits.

"Get some sleep," Don says softly, and Danny can hear the mattress creek again as the detective gets up. "I'm only a phone call away, buddy."

"'Kay."

They're both breathing shallow and slow. Danny can barely hear it. He nods to himself, knowing he's in for a hell of a headache analysing what just happened. They're both silent.

Danny hangs up first, but only by a second. He hangs his arm over the side of the couch, chewing his lip. Don't decide now, he tells himself, before forcing himself up onto his feet. It's too quiet, so he hurries into the bathroom and turns the shower on quick. He bangs his head against the mirror and groans. He knows there's no chance he's going to sleep after that.


End file.
